Thomas Jefferson inspires so many biographies and critiques that our impressions of him seem to fluctuate from decade to decade.

His views on religion, race and government are regularly parsed, and even his culinary habits made their way into print in Thomas Jefferson’s Crème Brûlée: How a Founding Father and His Slave James Hemings Introduced French Cuisine to America by Thomas J. Craughwell. Who cares what Washington or Lincoln ate?

When Joseph J. Ellis began research for his 1996 American Sphinx: The Character of Thomas Jefferson, he found that writing about Jefferson was “as if a pathologist, just about to begin an autopsy, has discovered that the body on the operating table was still breathing.”

Jefferson lives again in Annette Gordon-Reed and Peter S. Onuf’s Most Blessed of Patriarchs, but he never quite breathes. Gordon-Reed, a Pulitzer Prize winner for The Hemingses of Monticello, and Onuf, professor emeritus at the University of Virginia, are among the most distinguished living Jefferson scholars, and Most Blessed of Patriarchs is always fascinating reading. The purpose of the book, though, never quite comes into focus.

It is true that Jefferson calling himself a patriarch “provides a window into his thinking about his place in the world and his sense of self.” But the picture through that window isn’t always clear. The authors write, “An important part of the story we wish to tell is how this progressive patriarch came to rest easy within the confines of a way of life that he believed to be retrogressive.” They seem to be saying in a roundabout way that Jefferson himself never really came to terms with the contradictions of his own life.

Or as Henry Adams put it in his 1889 study, History of the United States of America, “The contradictions in Jefferson’s character have always rendered it a fascinating study. Excepting his rival Alexander Hamilton, no American has been the object of estimates so widely differing and so difficult to reconcile.”

Gordon-Reed and Onuf don’t succeed in reconciling the contradictory facets of a slaveholder who wrote the Declaration of Independence, but they often illuminate them. On the issue of slavery, Jefferson “lived a paradox, pushing the resolution off into a future in which the members of his community (whites, that is) became ready for a ‘revolution in public opinion…’”

Among the surprises about him was that although the region “had been the seat of political opposition to his own policies and beliefs, Jefferson envied many things about New England.” Not the least of which was his great friend, John Adams, with whom he so passionately quarreled.

Most Blessed of the Patriarchs works best when the authors stick to the details of Jefferson’s home life at Monticello — letter writing “was the principal means by which he imagined and structured his life.” Many personal details are fascinating, such as Jefferson’s obsession with music: “Over the years, Jefferson bought mockingbirds that did what they usually do — imitate the songs of other birds — but that had also been trained to sing specific tunes from America, Scotland, and France. He did whatever he could to have music around him at all times.”

When the narrative expands to larger issues, the result is more problematic. The authors seem to be trying hard to pull their subject into the Christian camp — “It is clear that Jefferson was deeply interested in the Bible” and “He could say that he did consider himself to be a Christian by his own definition.” While it is undeniable Jefferson admired Jesus, he simply did not accept his divinity, which, I think, would have to mean that he was not a Christian.

They argue that “No one’s contribution to and participation in the formation of the American Union was of longer duration and more sustained influence” than Jefferson’s. That statement, though, seems to slide past the obvious counter of “What about Alexander Hamilton?” without truly addressing it. When it comes to building institutions and the framework of the country, and foreseeing its economic future, I’m sure many would credit Hamilton.

On other issues, I wish Gordon-Reed and Onuf had taken a stand. We’re told, for instance, that Jefferson was “passionate” on “holding the line against the nationalizing agenda of John Marshall’s Supreme Court, which he believed was taking too much power from citizens and their representatives.” A dispassionate observer might conclude that what Marshall’s court actually did was take power away from Jefferson and the presidency, but I’d be interested to know exactly what they think.

The authors maintain that in recent years “‘Jefferson the God’ has given way to ‘Jefferson the Devil.’” Well, it’s true that no one’s writing Broadway musicals about Jefferson these days, but Most Blessed of the Patriarchs has the virtue of avoiding the pitfalls of presenting our third president as either God or devil and restoring him to the ranks of the human.

Reed also is one of the authors scheduled for “The People, the Presidency and the Press,” a Pulitzer centennial event June 2-3 at the George W. Bush Presidential Center. Details at bit.ly/dallaspulitzer100.